


In Our Bedchamber, After The Feast

by ideliagirl



Series: Where and When [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Babies, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Familial Protectiveness, Family Dynamics, Feasts, Mentions of past abuse, Smut, Turned to Loving Marriage, mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideliagirl/pseuds/ideliagirl
Summary: The lords of the Reach should learn very quickly not to make Willas Tyrell's little wolf angry.But though they love her, Willas Tyrell's family only begin to fully trust her with his well-being once they've seen her that way.





	In Our Bedchamber, After The Feast

**Author's Note:**

> 1st ever Sansa/Willas fic. But damn, the idea of them together is so CUTE! 
> 
> Hope I do right by them. :)

“Your wife is the best person in the whole world.”

Willas looked up from his ledger to find Garlan, standing in the doorway of the Lord’s study, eating a leftover candied apple he’d snuck from off the banquet table before the servants cleared the night’s feast away.

“Thank you,” Willas chuckled, nodding to his younger brother. “I’m rather fond of her.”

Garlan pushed off the doorframe and walked in, shutting the door behind him. “No. Not _fond_. She’s THE _best person in the whole world_.”

“Okay,” Willas grabbed his cane and stood from his chair. “what favor did she do for you? Or what favor did the Reach’s Liege Lady get a lesser lord to promise at the feast tonight that they’d do for you?”

“Ha! She did say she’d talk to old Arys Oakheart about easing tariffs when transporting goods to Brightwater through the Shields, but she promised that weeks ago, so…….” Garlan sat in the chair Willas had just vacated and put his feet up on the green marble top of the Lord’s desk, throwing his finished apple in the nearby trash basket. “that’s not what it took, not this time.”

“Mother will kill you if she finds out your feet had been on the desk that’s been in this castle for seven-hundred years.” Willas leaned against the desk and poked the end of his cane at Garlan’s feet. “And why not this time? And why is the best person in the world not Leonette?”

Garlan put his feet back on the floor. “She is—in my world. But I’m telling you, Sansa should be the best person in _your world_.” He looked up, straight into his older brother’s eyes. “Not me. Not mother. Just Sansa.”

Willas sobered and stood up straighter. “I see.”

“Yeah.” Garlan heaved a sigh as he rose from the chair. “Look, I’ve always loved Sansa. Always knew she’d make a fine Lady of Highgarden, a fine wife, a fine mother.” He stood before Willas and put both hands on his shoulders. “But we’ve been careful about the people we let get close to you.”

Willas’ face fell at hearing the word ‘ _we_ ’. “Even if that person was my wife?”

“Marriages to Great Houses are made for political reasons.” Garlan shrugged, then smirked widely. “And you didn’t have my effortless charm and good looks to pull someone in for love like Leonette was pulled to me.”

“You should be a jester at court.” Willas rolled his eyes, even if Garlan spoke the truth with regards to his lovely Fossaway wife.

“Those in our family who weren’t salivating at the idea of marrying House Tyrell to an ancient house like the Kings of Winter, had some fears about handing your well-being over to someone who wasn’t blood.” Garlan ducked his head. “And those fears weren’t eased by knowing she only agreed to the match as means of escape—even if what she’d been escaping was not her doing.”

Willas furrowed his brow. “But now?”

“Now? Now my fears have _been erased_.” Garlan began to walk backwards toward the door. “As will Mother’s. I’ll make sure of it.”

“What’s happened?” Willas spoke forcefully. “I already knew to trust Sansa, but what’s changed for you?”

“I’ve seen her gentleness, her kindness and consideration…….but I must say,” Garlan laughed slightly, the brunt of it in his chest, rather than coming from his mouth. “I never saw your little wolf’s love for you until I saw her howl in anger.”

Willas blanched, his mouth opening with this knowledge. “She got angry? At whom?”

“You trust your wife.” Garlan yanked the door open before walking through with a shrug. “Ask her.”

 

 

 

“Sansa, sweetling?” Willas watched her as she sat before her dressing table across the room from him and brushed out her long, gorgeous hair.

He smiled serenely from his seat in the high-backed and cushioned settee in their bedchamber—the piece she’d had made for him not long into their marriage. She’d had it made back when their bedchamber was still only _her_ bedchamber, so he’d have a comfortable place to sit when he’d visit. She wanted him to be comfortable while with her, knowing full well that with his infirmity, not all furniture would meet that bill. The plan, it seemed, backfired beautifully for the both of them, as they became so comfortable in each other’s presence that he never left.

“Two years of Reach feasts and I haven’t quite gotten over my awe at how different they are from the feasts in the North.” She brought her fingers behind her neck, struggling to unclasp the necklace he’d gifted to her earlier tonight. She had smiled brightly, blue eyes twinkling when he’d presented it to her—a silver direwolf pendant hanging off a strand of connected silver roses. “Willas, darling,” she stood and pointed to the nape of her neck, “help me, please.”

He grinned and rose from the settee to move behind her, setting his cane against her dressing table before moving her lustrous copper mane aside and placing his hands at the lovely curve of her neck. “Why did you dismiss your maids?”

“With your father and mother in King’s Landing for the season, you and I are the Lord and Lady of Highgarden, of the Reach.” She sighed in contentment when he fluttered a kiss on her bare skin. “We were busy the whole feast with conversations and petitions—and neither one of us would ever dare be impolite—" she turned when he finally unclasped the necklace. “so, as a result, I’ve barely seen you all night.”

He dropped the jewelry on her table and slinked an arm around her tiny waist. “And you just couldn’t wait any longer to have me all to yourself?”

“Something like that.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling softly. “And unlike Garlan and Leonette, neither one of us think it appropriate to show this kind of affection in a banquet hall full of our bannerman.”

Willas stood up a little straighter, clearing his throat. “Darling, speaking of Garlan, he came to me in my study a little while ago and told me of something that happened with you tonight, something I should speak to you about.”

“Oh.” She turned her head shyly, slowly removing her arms from his neck. “He told you about that? I wasn’t sure he’d tell you about that.”

“He did.”

She let out a deep sigh, trying to pull out of his embrace. “And are you terribly disappointed in me?”

He didn’t let her go. “Well, firstly, I don’t really know what happened,” he brought a gentle hand to her jaw, turning her face back to his. “and second, I could never be disappointed in you, my love.”

“You don’t know what happened?” She blinked rapidly.

Willas shook his head. “He didn’t tell me.”

She pursed her lips. “So Garlan just came to tell you of his displeasure at me causing embarrassment to the family?”

“Gods no.” Willas laughed, his head falling back slightly. “He wasn’t displeased or embarrassed. He was damn proud.”

“Proud?” She lifted a brow.

He nodded, his clever green eyes twinkling. “And he had a feeling I would be, too. When I had all the facts, that is.”

“He shouldn’t be proud.” Her voice trembled, and she bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You got angry at someone?” He reached up to run his fingers along a lock of her hair. “One of the bannerman?”

She nodded timidly before tucking her head under his chin. “And I didn’t get angry, I got furious.”

“Mm-hmm.” He pressed a light kiss to her temple and pulled her tighter to him. “Did he insult you? Your family?”

“He mentioned them,” she traced her fingertips over his collarbone. “but it wasn’t about them, or me.”

Willas hummed in understanding. “So it was about me, then?” He felt her body go still before he pulled back to look at her. He shrugged. “Darling, people have been saying things about me since even _before_ _my injury_. I was too studious, too……..boring, for a lot of them to think I was a proper heir to such a place as Highgarden.”

“Well, then they’re idiots.”

He laughed. “Most of them already are even _without_ their opinions of me.” He quirked both brows. “Which idiot was it this time?”

“Ser Dakid Rowan.” Sansa whispered.

This time, Willas roared in laughter, his head falling back completely. “Well, he is _definitely_ an idiot, and was most likely deep into his cups early in the evening. You shouldn’t have wasted your fury on the likes of him.”

“You’re his Liege Lord! And ten times the man he could ever dream of being even without that status!” She did manage to pull away this time, her fists clenching at her sides. “And you’re his relation on both sides, Redwyne and Hightower. For him to say such a thing!”

Willas grabbed his cane and walked to their large bed to sit down at the end, looking up into her beautiful blue eyes. “And what did he say?”

Sansa looked chagrined that she again referenced what Rowan said to her, when there was a chance Willas might have let it go without asking specifics. “Well, first he said the Reach was very honored to have me as their lady………even with the black mark against my family name.”

Willas shook his head. “It’s as if Cersei falling from grace and Tommen removing the traitor brand from House Stark never even happened with some of these fools.”

“But then he went on and said that it was lucky for the Reach that my family had been branded traitors, for if not…..if not…..” she came to the end of the bed and knelt before him. “then a fine lady such as myself would never have even been considered for……”

He cupped a delicate hand around the back of her neck. “Go on.”

She looked down at his feet, taking off his shoes before sighing deeply. “……the crippled, boring, and probably impotent heir to Highgarden.”

“He’s not the first person to say it.” He lifted her chin and smiled gently. “And definitely not the first person to think it.”

She placed a soft hand on his ruined knee. “It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not.” He chuckled, pulling her up to sit on his good leg. “It’s completely true. If Cersei hadn’t used your father’s decency against him, and besmirched your family’s good name—a name that had stood for honor and honesty for thousands of years before and will stand for it thousands of years to come—then you would have joined the royal household,” he purposely avoided speaking Joffrey’s name, as they both always did. “or been wed to some other lord…..young, gallant, ridiculously handsome—”

“Foolish, disloyal, inconsiderate—” she continued for him, listing off all the qualities she was proud to never have to deal with.

“And you have no idea how shameful it is for me, when I say my prayers to the Seven each day….” he looked down, taking her hand in his and entwining their fingers. “…..to actually thank them that Cersei Lannister was such an evil harlot.”

She kissed his temple and stroked gently down the side of his face with her free hand. “If _that’s_ shameful, then it’s also shameful to thank the gods that Oberyn Martell had a good day in that tourney all those years ago. Because without that, you’d be married to some other lady…..refined, connected, wealthy—”

“Vapid, vain, snobbish—” he nodded to himself, continuing as she had.

“And so, when Rowan told me the Reach sympathized with me being in a passionless and fruitless marriage, then patted Garlan—who was standing right beside me—on the shoulder and said, ‘ _it’s alright that you’ll never have children, Lady Sansa, because Garlan and his Fossaway will finally give the Reach an heir we can be proud of’._ Well, I suppose…..” she moved her hand to run through his chestnut curls. “…. I sort of lost it.”

His skillful fingers began to undo the stays in the back of her gown as he leaned in to place lustful, open kisses against her neck. “What did you say?”

“That he was an ugly fool. That his sister was a well-known slut. And that his father was a brown-nosing liar who only ever got what he got by saying whatever the man-in-charge wanted him to say, regardless of the truth.” She giggled both in remembrance of Rowan’s face while she’d screamed, and the present feel of Willas’ warm hand against her bare back, his hot mouth against her neck.

“Bet he didn’t like that.” He trailed his hand around her front to begin pulling up her skirts, his fingers managing to immediately find the soft strip of skin on her thigh between her stockings and smallclothes.

She squealed and took in a sharp breath. “And then I told him if he and his idiot family ever opened the gilded gates of their ostentatious, ugly castle to go out into the real world, they’d see all the good that my husband’s intelligence and selflessness has done for the Reach and its people.” Her eyelids fluttered shut and her breaths faltered as he deftly pulled the ribbons holding up her stockings. “And then….and then……”

“And then?” He stopped all his ministrations.

Her fevered blue eyes flew wide open and she grinned wickedly. “And then I told him if I ever heard him speak out of turn against my husband and his Liege Lord again,” she leaned in and playfully bit his lower lip. “I’d have Garlan geld him and the only person there who’d have a passionless and fruitless marriage…… would be _him_.”

Willas’ heart skipped a beat and his jaw dropped. “You’re making that up.”

“Hand to the gods, old and new.” She held up her hand. “You can ask Garlan.” She chewed her lip, looking mildly guilty. “Not a very proper thing for a lady to say—”

“My little wolf shows her teeth. I didn’t think this was possible,” his green eyes dilated with desire as a wide grin split his face. “but I love you even more than I did before you told me.”

She lifted off his leg with a heated smirk and let her loosened gown fall to the floor, rolled her stockings down and shimmied out of her small clothes, before yanking off her shift.

He sat frozen, his gaze reverently following her as she knelt up onto their bed and crawled, completely naked, toward the pillows. She lifted a brow as she snuck underneath the covers.

“Well, you’d better get moving.” She giggled, pointedly looking him over from head to toe. “I’m not going to lie with you while you’re completely dressed. I just had those breeches specially made for tonight’s feast, and although I may be desperate to have you inside me……it’s not enough to ruin perfectly new garments.”

Although he’d learned to do it on his own over the years, undressing had never been an easy or swift feat for Willas since his accident. That night however, he was either granted a reprieve from his injury by the Seven, or he was put into a time-and-pain free trance by the sheer perfection that was his beautiful little wife, waiting for and wanting only him as she laid naked in their bed. Because before Willas knew it, every inch of his bare flesh he could manage was pressed against hers.

She rolled over on top of him—as was the best position for them both—and he could feel the wetness already coating her thighs. She easily sunk herself down onto him, his hard length entering her tightness for the first time ever without any direct foreplay needed for either of them. She settled into his lap, clutching into his sides and riding him as expertly as she now rode the gentle, silver-haired filly he’d gifted her this last nameday.

“Do you know how I know the gods were behind us being put together? _This_.” She leaned down and peppered his bare chest with open kisses. “You were so perfect in our marriage bed when I first came to you as a scared and nearly-broken young bride. So patient and gentle with me, letting me decide what I could give and what I could take.” He could feel the smirk grow on her lips against his skin, a teasing lilt changing her sweet voice. “ _And then_ as time went by, as you let me decide that I wanted to take you being _decidedly less gentle_ —that’s what you gave. Perfectly in sync with me. This is how I know it was the gods who made me to be your wife.”

“And you’re worth the wait,” he ran a hand up her sides to cup a soft breast in his palm. “and Rowan may be an idiot, but _you are_ far too good for me.”

“Willas……..” she began to warn, pulling back slightly.

He wrapped his hand around the ends of her hair and pulled her back to his mouth, nibbling at her lips. “Not an insult to myself. You’re too good _for_ _everyone_. Tonight proved it—you’re perfect. The Smith himself is in awe of you.”

“That’s blasphemy, husband.” She giggled, kissing his chin.

“No, it’s not.” He groaned as she clenched her inner walls around him. “The gods made you. They’re just as proud to have made you as I am to have you. My perfect….” he claimed her mouth and slipped his tongue inside, beginning a slow, sensual dance with hers as they slid alongside each other. “perfect…..perfect little wife……little wolf.”

She sat back up and rolled her hips forcefully against his, whimpering lowly at his outright moan, and brought both his hands back up to massage her breasts, holding them there with her own. “Fuck me, husband. Fuck me hard. So that your perfect little wife can be as loud as the filthy wanton you turn me into every time you do it. And all the visiting lords in this castle tonight will have no doubt by the time they break their fasts in the morrow…….. that ours is _not_ a passionless marriage.”

It was only recently, and only in their bed, that Sansa had ever used racy language. And even though he never dreamed he’d hear the words coming from her mouth, his blood boiled much too hot at hearing them to be even remotely scandalized.

He sat up, wrapping her tight against him and thrusting up into her with _absolutely none_ of the gentleness he’d first given her in their marriage bed—pulling her hair, scraping nails roughly down her bare back, tugging her hard nipples into his mouth with greedy lips, chanting ‘ _my wanton wife, my wonderous, wild wolf_ ’ and continuing to pound into her even after he felt her slick channel tighten almost unbearably around him.

“Come for me, perfect Sansa. My perfect little wife.” He growled into her neck. “Let all the lords in this castle hear how loudly this crippled, boring, probably impotent heir makes his little wolf howl.”

And she did, screaming his name before devolving into a loud, primitive sound that the animals of her family’s sigil would have been proud to hear. When he finally came himself, long and hard and deep inside her, and both their breaths eased to the point they could speak again, her hoarse, exhausted voice asked him, “Do you think they heard?”

He chuckled lowly, wiping sweat from his brow and pressing a kiss to her equally-sweaty shoulder. “My darling, the direwolves north of The Wall heard you.”

 

 

 

Ten months later, the lords of the Reach again gathered at Highgarden for a feast to celebrate a blessed event. One that had been greatly anticipated, and that a few believed would never come.

Willas stood proud at the castle gates as he welcomed his bannerman. Sansa stood radiant beside her husband as she held her Tyrell son, Edwyn, in her arms. And Alerie stood ecstatic next to her gooddaughter as she held Edwyn’s twin sister, Willa, in hers.

Willas could barely contain a smirk when Ser Dakid Rowan came upon the happy family in the receiving line, nearly trembling with fear. Willas gave him a warm handshake while Sansa smiled politely. As any proper host and hostess would do.

And if Sansa’s smile pulled back ever slightly to show her canine teeth, and an almost imperceptible snarl came from deep in her throat?

Well, Willas was much too overjoyed to notice.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated. (And not to bribe, but I may feel compelled to write more Sansa/Willas if I know I've done it halfway decently. LOL.)


End file.
